Rot
by cheencheen
Summary: A new epidemic is wreaking havoc throughout the world. Governments are in shambles, countries are declaring war, and people have been coming back from the dead. It's up to the last groups of nations to survive and keep the human race alive. Zombie AU, lots of characters involved. Minor to major pairings. Warning: Violence, Gore, Language, Character Death
1. Summary

The year is 2015.

A recent epidemic has wiped out a majority of the planet's population. Countries' governments are in shambles, and riots and looting have broken out in every known location. There is no authority.

Nations have declared war on each other, notably in the middle east, and all that remains there is rubble and death.

The CDC remains silent and there is no known vaccine anywhere. Rumors spread that some folks in Moscow had found a cure, but there has been no word since.

Over populated cities (Tokyo, New York, Paris, etc) are overrun and NOT SAFE. There is no military, all that remains are dead soldiers, abandoned tanks and crashed helicopters.

Starting point of disease: New York City, Beijing.

The current season is summer.

What is known about the disease: Hypothalamus Red 46 (HR-46)

Definition: the hypothalamus is the part of the brain that controls body temperature, hunger, important aspects of parenting and attachment behaviors, thirst, fatigue, sleep, and circadian rhythms

Effects: Extreme temperatures, ranging from fever to hypothermia. Frequent mood swings, anger and resentment towards loved ones. Almost become feral. Incubation period on average lasts for 14 hours, some shorter and some longer. Towards the end of the incubation period the victim begins to hallucinate and cough blood up. Once their organs stop functioning, the infection reanimates a part of the brain stem that brings the victim back to life as a ravenous cannibal incapable of human thought or compassion.

Ways of spreading: Airborne, bites, open wounds (blood on blood contact)

Nations that have been silent, not accounted for, and rumored dead: India, North and South Korea, Egypt, Australia, Japan, Most of Africa, Middle east and South America (minus the Island Nations), Cuba

What will become of the rest of the nations is unclear. We can only hope for a brighter future.


	2. Chapter 1

The flight was long and exhausting.

While it had only been an half an hour, America still felt like a good chunk of his life had been wasted away. The plane wasn't quiet, either, thanks to a crying baby and a few people coughing up a storm. The nation sighed as he pressed his face against the tiny window.

"Come on now, what's with that look, eh?" Canada smiled as he saw America's reflection.

"Nothing, 'eh,'" America mocked, causing Canada's smile to falter. The northern country decided it was best to leave America alone, and directed his attention to an older man's newspaper. The headline read: NEW DISEASE HITTING DENSELY POPULATED CITIES.

Canada, startled, squinted and leaned in to get a better look. The old man, noticing that he wasn't the only one reading, graciously offered his paper. Canada gladly took it from him and began to examine the article.

"What's that?" asked America upon noticing the newspaper.

"Some disease is spreading. Apparently it started in China… and it looks like it hit New York and Paris."

"When does it _not_ start in China?" Canada's southern neighbor laughed.

"This is serious. People are dying, Alfred."

He stopped laughing. "How many?"

"Well, the article says about 50 people. But the date of this was… 2 days ago, so it could be higher."

"I'm sure the CDC has everything under control." America waved it off, leaning back into the chair and letting out a seemingly nonchalant sigh. But the coughing from a nearby passenger, which had suddenly gotten much louder, visibly unnerved him.

"Excuse me sir, would you like some water?" asked the flight attendant, but the man shook his head and continued coughing into his arm. America turned back to Canada, who gave him a worried smile.

"Ehm… I think I'm gonna call Arthur." America reached into his pocket for his cellphone. He fumbled with the dial pad, but managed to enter the number.

"Alfred?!" the voice said.

"Heeeeey Artie." America whispered quietly.

"Bloody hell, where are you?" The Englishman asked in a slightly panicked voice.

"Nice to see you too." America chuckled.

"Alfred, where are you? Are you on land? Are you-"

"Whoa there, what's with 20 questions? I swear I'm not doing anything suspicious-"

"Just bloody answer the question!" England's voice screamed through the phone. America was taken back slightly, his mouth open in surprise. Canada gave him an alarmed look.

"I-I'm on the plane still. What the hell was that for?"

Silence.

"Arthur? Hello?"

"My god. Alfred, you have to ge-" As if on cue, the phone cut out.

"Ah fuck, no service. Just my luck."

"Are you serious? Well, what did he say?" Canada asked, trembling a little.

"Dude, calm down! I'm sure it was nothing. He was probably just gonna yell at me cause we're running late and stuff."

"O-o-ok…" Canada said, nodding nervously.

"Come on man, here, let's play rock paper scissors." America grinned, grabbing the other's hand and forcing it into a fist.

"Ow! Alfred, now is not the time for-"

"Rock, paper, scissors!" America jerked his hand flat, while Canada kept his in a fist.

"I won!" America beamed. "Let's go again."

"America, please-"

"Rock, paper-"

Suddenly, a scream erupted inside the plane. Both of the nations whirled their heads around to see. The man who had been coughing violently before had just vomited blood all over the flight attendant. Canada covered his mouth in horror, while America quickly stood up and rushed over.

"Is there a doctor on board?!" America shouted, but there was no response but confused crying and shouting. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he looked back down at the man, unsure of what to do. The plane jerked abruptly downward, and he nearly lost his balance.

"What the-"

The plane continued its descent, forcing America to cling onto the seat for dear life.

"Alfred!" Canada desperately tried to reach him, but to no avail. Amidst all the screaming from the passengers, America gave his neighbor a smile.

_Fuck._

* * *

"Ahhh, where is it?!" the short nation exclaimed.

"What? China, did you forget something on the plane?" a gentle voice questioned with a small smile.

"Russia, we have to go back!" China was about to make a break for the terminal but Russia quickly grabbed his hand.

"If we go back, England will yell at us. Mostly at me, and I'm really not in the mood for that. What are you missing anyway…?"

China swirled around and sniffled. "Mei Mei's present! The little pink panda charm!" China's lip trembled just thinking about it.

"Don't worry, Yao, we can get her another one."

"But it was special! I got it 75% off!" cried China.

Russia smiled apologetically at the smaller man, and placed a soothing hand on his shoulder. "There, there. You will survive," he stated matter-of-factly.

China remained solemn, though, sighing as he softly shook his head. Russia could hear him say something foreign under his breath, but didn't bother asking what it was.

"Well, you should try calling America to see if they took off yet."

"Yeah, I guess…" China said, taking out his phone. Out of nowhere a man ran straight into the unsuspecting Asian, sending him and his phone to the ground.

"Aiyah! Watch what you're doing!" China scolded, but the man said nothing, and continued running off behind them.

Russia lowered a hand down to help his comrade. "Are you alrigh- oh!"

China gave him a calculating look before Russia pointed to his shoulder.

"You're bleeding?" he managed to say, kneeling down beside the ebony-haired man.

"Huh?" China looked down his shirt, only to find no open wounds.

"That can't be. I'm perfectly fine. It must not be my blood…" muttered China, before jolting at an ear-piercing shriek that echoed throughout the airport. The man that had bumped into China earlier was now sinking his teeth into a young women's neck.

_A Jiangshi! _China humorously thought to himself, despite the fact he was being yanked violently by the Russian to get up. China could barely formulate any thoughts of what he had just seen, other than that he might have been in that woman's shoes if he had decided to go back to the terminal.

"Keep your head down!" China barely managed to make out Russia's voice among the hundreds of people around him, gunshots, and shattering glass.

"I don't understand what's going on… please help me…" The Asian nation looked down to see an old woman of his country, desperately trying to grab onto his ankle. Blood was dripping down from her mouth.

"I'm sorry, I don't…" Suddenly, heard the noise of something being squished, and his vision went black

_It made him remember the time he made meatballs house at his house for Italy, who refused to eat anything from his kitchen. His stubbornness made Yao laugh. That was around 20 years ago, yet it still remained fresh in his memories._

He was pulled back into reality when he was pushed into a tight space. China found that his vision was no longer blocked, and saw a broom and a couple of cleaning materials. A janitor's closet, apparently.

"I'm sorry about that, Yao." China's sense of isolation was disrupted by Russia's tone, greatly disturbing the elder nation. "I didn't want you to see that."

"See what?" China asked, concerned. Russia merely casted his gaze to the ground, before lifting it back to the older nation's eyes.

"She was sick."

* * *

Russia looked down at his watch. It had only been about 40 minutes since chaos erupted inside the airport. Approximately 30 since he'd squashed a babushka's brains out. He looked over at his companion, his beloved Yao. The poor man was pale, with worry and terror plastered across his face. Russia placed an arm around his companion.

China sunk into the touch and sighed. "We can't stay here."

"Well, it has gotten pretty quiet out there…" Russia paused, and removed himself from China. Standing up, he gave his friend a look of "stay put or else," and peeked outside the door. Past the doorway was just as he had expected.

Dead bodies, most of which had been obliterated by bullets, were strewn about the floor. Overturned furniture and fallen soldiers were also lying about, yet strangely enough, there were no guns in sight. Russia tiptoed over, glass crunching beneath his feet. He knelt over and patted down a dead soldier in hopes of finding a weapon of some sort. To his delight, he found a dagger and a single hand grenade. Checking the around the area once more, he concluded that it was safe.

"China, the coast is clear, but prepare yourself. It's not pretty," said Russia.

China emerged from the closet, expecting the worst. He would have to thank Russia later for the warning after what he saw.

"O-oh... No… Nooo…" As he took in the gruesome image in front of him, it became more difficult to breathe. Sure, he had lived for thousands of years, but it never got any easier seeing a dead body, especially if there were more than one. His stomach churned as he cast his gaze over to what was left of the woman he had seen only an hour ago. He clutched his chest, stepping back only to hit another dead body. Only this time its face was completely _gone_. China quickly covered his mouth to keep bile from escaping, but to no avail. Russia grimaced as he heard the poor nation vomit. He hurried to China's side and pulled a few strands of hair out of the other's face.

"Better?"

"Yeah…" China managed to say, wiping stray fluid away with his sleeve. He looked back up at his northern neighbor and gave him a sad smile. "Sorry."

"Do not worry, it is better to let out than in." Russia stated, causing China to chuckle at his poor attempt at an idiom. "We should keep moving forward though, can't stay here for long."

The Asian nation quickly nodded at Russia's statement before coming to a realization.

"America and Canada! Oh, we can't leave without them!" exclaimed China as panic surged through him.

"They are probably landing somewhere else, there should be nothing to worry about. It is best we leave no-"

"No, I'm not leaving. We're waiting here for them, and that's _that_," the shorter of the two declared.

Russia gave China a brief glare before sighing and rubbing his temples in annoyance.

"Ivan, I know you don't like Alfred, but I'm not leaving without those two. England and France are depending on us to bring them, and if we don't do it now we might not ever find them again. I don't want to be responsible for that."

Russia crossed his arms. "Fine, but you take this." The northern nation handed China the hand grenade. "I would expect that you know how to use it?"

China chuckled softly, before turning around to stride ahead.

"Just hope I don't blow you up."


	3. Chapter 2

"What a load of complete bullocks!" England screamed as he slammed the phone onto the kitchen counter. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck-

"Arthur?" Francis peered around the corner, alarmed.

"I lost bloody connection. Dammit… DAMMIT!"

England felt France's arm wrapping around him, pulling him into a reassuring hug. "Calm down, you're scaring everyone in the other room," France murmured to him.

"I know, I know. I just… America… Canada…"

"They're probably fine. You know the way airplanes are, the connection up there is terrible! Plus the flight attendant might have caught them." France smiled, running his fingers through the British man's hair.

England was still worried, but relaxed a bit thanks to the touch. "I suppose I really lost my 'cool,'" he laughed weakly, trying to regain his composure.

"Papa?" Both nations turned around to see Seychelles peeking around the corner of the kitchen, a frown plastered on her face. "Are you done yet?"

"Yes, yes, we'll be in there in just a second." France turned back to England. "Will you be all right?"

The Brit nodded, forcing a smile onto his face.

"Let's not keep them waiting," France declared, and they both started towards the German brothers' living room.

Earlier, Prussia had been dialing Germany and Italy's numbers nonstop, but failed to get in contact. Hungary had been doing the same, while Austria had sat silent and still, eyes glued to the television. Seychelles was standing next to the window, gazing out at the grayish day contemplatively.

The white-haired nation's head perked when he saw England enter the room. "I heard you talking in there. Did you get in contact with them?"

England nodded hesitantly. "They were... still on the plane. But I lost connection before I could tell them about what's happening right now."

"Holy shit… I hope they're all right..." Prussia said mechanically, staring down at the useless cell phone in his lap with dull red eyes. England had never seen such a defeated expression on the man's face. According to his trusty sense of courtesy, he supposed that the most tactful thing to do would be to leave him alone.

The room remained silent until commercials cut short and the newscaster reappeared on the screen.

"Just moments ago, Lufthansa flight 323 headed to Berlin Brandenburg Airport crashed in France. It is unknown how many are confirmed dead. We will do our best to keep you updated. Now, back to the infe-"

_That was them._

_They were in that plane._

_They're probably dead._

_Their corpses charred-_

France quickly turned off the TV. Hungary rushed over to place a firm grasp on England's shoulder.

"Now England, let's just keep calm-"

The Brit, unused to being touched in the first place and entirely not needing it now, backed away. "_Don't fucking touch me,_" he spat.

Hungary exchanged a concerned look with France, who looked quite sick.

The deafening stillness in the room was broken as Austria turned the TV back on, earning a glare from Prussia

"What are you doing?"

"I'm not going to sit here and feel sorry for you all. We need to keep tabs on what on earth is happening, and gather more information before we all come to irrational conclusions."

"Tch, as if any of these people know what the fuck is happening. Instead of sitting on your ass watching these idiots run around in circles, you could be so much more helpful in helping us figure out where the fuck Lud and Feliciano are! Don't you even give a damn?!" Prussia shouted, roughly grabbing the Austrian by the collar.

"Stop it, you two! You're not helping the situation at all!" Hungary exclaimed, rushing over and seizing Prussia in a choke hold.

"ENOUGH!" France's voice boomed above the others' racket. "I know everyone is tense, but could you all get a hold of yourselves?" he fumed.

The quarreling trio mumbled "sorry" and stepped away from each other.

England remained silent, head spinning. America and Canada. _Alfred and Matthew_. Not them. _Not them-_

"_Alright come on you two, stand still! This portrait is very important. Don't you want to look back and see how much you've grown?" Arthur said sternly at the two children sitting beside him. _

"_Yes Arthur." a timid blonde replied, while the other child flicked him in the head. _

"_Oy, Alfred Jones! Was that really necessary?" _

_Alfred laughed loudly at Arthur's remark. "Aw, I'm sorry pops! Won't happen again!"_

_Arthur frowned at Alfred's speaking habits and childish behavior. Wouldn't he ever learn to grow up? "Swear to me you'll stop picking on your brother and behave for once. Don't you ever act serious?" _

_Alfred grinned up at the empire and wrapped an arm around his twin. "Sure thing!" _

_Oh, how he wished he had that portrait with him. It was probably still in his attic, dusty and torn._

Seychelles's scream brought the blonde back to his senses. He swung his head around to see the little girl standing away from the window, covering her eyes.

"Sey? What's wrong?" Prussia questioned as he hurried over to the small nation. She merely screamed again before burying her face into his chest.

The rest of the nations all crowded up against the window to see a young woman in the middle of the street with her stomach ripped open, intestines sprawled out. Two other figures loomed over the body, seemingly devouring the poor lady. Hungary covered her mouth in awe and terror, while Austria's eyes were wide with dismay.

"Haha… No way… No fucking way… That must be a joke…." Prussia stammered, trembling a bit as he held the traumatized Seychelles.

France, meanwhile, had apparently decided that the nations were going to get the _hell_ out of the house.

"England, go pack up some food," the Frenchman ordered, tossing his backpack at England.

England was never one to take France's orders, but nonetheless flew through Germany's cupboards as fast as he could, tossing heavy cans into the bag.

As he scavenged, he heard France ask, "Prussia, do you have any guns?"

Prussia chuckled abruptly at the question. "What kind of question is that? Course I got guns. I got guns from fuckin 1854 to fuckin 1945. America would throw a fit over the amount of guns I have-"

England, having packed all he could find, returned to the living room and tossed the bag back to France just as Hungary shouted "Gilbert!" and punched him to shut him up.

"Fine, fine I'll go get them…" Prussia looked down at Seychelles and lightly patted her hair.  
"Come on kid, let's get your things and get the heck out of here, alright?"

He smiled reassuringly at Seychelles, guiding her down to the basement with a hand on her shoulder, France and the food bag trailing behind them.

Hungary surveyed Austria's efforts to barricade the front door with furniture. "Smart move there," she commented, "but I think we'll be all ri-"

She was interrupted by a loud thud that rattled the front door, followed by sickening groans and gargling noises. Austria and Hungary briefly exchanged a look of panic, breaking off when they heard glass smashing in the kitchen.

"Don't let them get in!" Hungary ordered, rushing over to the kitchen. England was sprawled on the floor, trying in vain to bat away the deformed creature clawing at his leg.

"HUNGARY!" he screamed.

Hungary dove towards the infected person, trying to grab it away. Instead, her fingers merely sunk into the rotting flesh, and all she managed to pull off were huge chunks of dead meat. She gagged at the sight in front of her.

But she had to think quickly. She snatched up the first vaguely weapon-like object in sight, a butter knife (not her ideal choice of weapon, but it was all she had) and drove it deep into the former human's head with a silent apology. It gargled as blood sprayed everywhere, staining her green dress, but soon fell silent.

England backed away, breathing rapidly, slouching against the wall in relief.

"Jesus… What the hell…" she muttered, staring at the monster with absolute disgust.

"T-that's a… person… is that what this… disease does to you?" A horrified England managed to sputter out.

Hungary chuckled slightly. "Can't believe the news tried to censor this shit. Real grade-A geniuses over there." Her smile faded as she looked back at England. "You're fine, right?"

England nodded a bit too fast to convince Hungary.

"A LITTLE HELP OVER HERE?" cried a panicked Austria, causing the two nations to scramble for the door.

"Bloody hell!" cursed England at the sight Austria with his back pressed against the door, the furniture tossed aside.

"It wasn't holding them back! Now get over here and help me!"

England darted over to place both of his hands against the door, each thud and banging of fists pushing the two countries back slightly.

Hungary needed a real weapon, and fast. "I-I'm gonna go get Prussia!" she shouted and dashed for the basement.

"Prussia?"

Prussia took a terrifyingly long moment to respond, but finally called out "Ja! What's up?"

"The door is about to burst open. We can't hold them back for long!"

"Miss Hungary, I have these!" offered Seychelles, who was starting up the stairs. The woman's eyes widened as she took in the spectacle of little Seychelles carrying gigantic semiautomatic weapons. She'd honestly never thought she'd see the island nation so much as play Call of Duty.

"Take your pick!" Seychelles insisted. "I want the shiny one though, so save that one for me."

"Uhh…" Hungary deliberated over her options as Prussia and France emerged from the stairs, bags loaded with guns and knives. France passed her a rather heavy weapons bag, so she chose a pistol.

"You're pretty prepared, huh?" she noted.

"Nah, they're mostly keepsakes. They do the job though." Prussia replied, smirking.

The four countries hurried back to the front door to see Austria and England barely holding on.

"STEP BACK, JA?" Prussia whipped out a rifle and took aim; Austria and England both exchanged worried glances and quickly bolted from the door. "NOW I'M JUST GONNA WARN YOU ONCE. YA COME IN HERE, AND I BLOW YOUR HEAD OFF."

The masses beyond the door fell silent. The nations held their breath. Had Prussia so easily convinced these folks to back off? Maybe they were still… human?

Unfortunately, the notion was proven false as the door flew open, allowing six infected people to swarm in.

"Shit!" yelled Prussia.

"I got you." Hungary reassured, putting a bullet directly through an infected person's head. She wasn't so lucky with the next few shots, but she and Prussia eventually offed the handful of them.

"Wow, it's been a while since I've done that," Prussia breathed out.

"I'll say. Austria, are you okay?" Hungary smiled as she looked behind her at the predictably sickened musician.

"Just peachy," he muttered, averting his gaze from the bodies.

The smell of the rotting corpses made everyone grimace.

"That's quite vile." England said matter-of-factly.

France chuckled and placed an arm around him. "Then let's get the hell out of here, oui?"

"Now hang on just a sec," Prussia objected. "What about Germany and Italy? I still haven't gotten in touch and… what if they come back here?"

No one responded.

"We haven't heard from them at all though… It's probably best we just assume they're alright for the time being. Right now we need to see if America and Canada are still... alive." France's voice cracked slightly at the mention of their names.

Prussia sighed in defeat. "Fine."

England gave him a weak smile. "Thank you, Prussia. This means a lot."

Prussia frowned, and readjusted his bag. "Yeah, yeah. Let's just hurry and get in my car."


End file.
